


Ribbons and Cigarettes

by deadOnOffbeat



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Burlesque, F/F, Pining, Yennefer has three heartattack within six pages, fangirling gone too far
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29262420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deadOnOffbeat/pseuds/deadOnOffbeat
Summary: When Yennefer goes to see the burlesque show in town, she really doesn't expect to see her idol there.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 21
Kudos: 55





	Ribbons and Cigarettes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BadBatch (Forever_Cynical)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forever_Cynical/gifts).



She sees  _ her _ enter the stage and everything else is enveloped in a haze. Yennefer’s hands grip the tabletop for support. The way she walks alone is enough for Yennefer to know exactly who she is, even though the stage is still dark. Vaguely, she hears Triss and Sabrina chittering next to her and slaps into their direction to make them shut up. 

“Ouch, you slapped my tit,” Sabrina hisses under her breath. 

“Hush!”

It must be no more than, what, two feet to the ground-level stage? So if  _ she _ decides to come to the front, she would be no more than two feet away from Yennefer and on eye level. Yennefer suddenly feels like she’s on the precipice of a heart attack.

The drink she had just wanted to drink from remains forgotten in her hand. She is overwhelmed, and utterly so, because holy fuck, how has no one told her  _ she’s _ here? Why wasn’t she one of the top-featured artists of the evening? How dare these bastards of event-managing overlook her like that?

The crowd erupts in applause as the spotlight illuminates Tissaia de Vries’ telltale smirk and Yennefer feels like her heart stopped beating. She’s in a suit. Well, in a black suit jacket with a crisp white blouse underneath, that is, but instead of slacks, she’s wearing stockings and heels. Her hair is in finger waves with a chapeau claque on top and her eyes are smokey, the blinding amount of glitter on her cheeks serves as highlighter and, gods, Yennefer can feel her heart pick up again and make up for lost time by going twice the normal speed.

She manages to rip her eyes away when she hears Triss giggling next to her. 

“Did you know?”

Of course they knew. And of course they didn’t tell Yennefer about it. 

“It was supposed to be a surprise, but honestly, I didn’t think you wouldn’t google who’s there!”

She didn’t because she didn’t think it would matter, godsdamnit! 

Tissaia de Vries may not be the only artist she follows on instagram, but the only one she actually cares about. She usually stars in big shows like they put on in Cintra or Beauclair, so why would Yennefer even check to see if she starred in a small, raunchy bar in a small town like Vengerberg?

“Is it really her?” It could be a doppelganger. That thought makes more sense in her mind than any of the previous ones.

“Yenna,” Triss giggles, “we bought these tickets specifically because she’s here!”

“Why is she not on the flyer?”

“Because she’s a special guest. It was everywhere on social media!”

Alright, Yennefer might have stopped checking social media during finals because it distracted her and she always ended up rewatching this one interview posted on Tissaia de Vries’ profile where she calls out the interviewer for his misogynist views because, not to be overdramatic, but that shit’s hotter than porn.

“We thought you would find out the moment we bought the tickets, but then you didn’t, so we thought we would try to surprise you.”

“But I would have had to prepare myself for this!”

Yennefer turns her head and her mind explodes because Tissaia de Vries is at the front of the stage, looking directly at her. Fuck. With one eyebrow raised and unwavering, her eyes stay on her, and Yennefer feels thrown back in time to a point somewhere during school when a teacher had asked her a question and she hadn’t listened. Shit. Has she heard them talking? Fuck, she’s only a few feet away!

The music starts with the saxophone blaring, making her jump and she swears she sees Tissaia de Vries’ lip quirking up before she throws her head up to start her routine.

“She looked at me! She looked at me!”

She doesn’t even care that Sabrina will laugh at her. This is huge! How will she continue living a normal life after she’s seen heaven? What has previously been an unhealthy crush on a far-away burlesque dancer has now developed into an even unhealthier obsession. Great. 

Her mouth dries the moment Tissaia de Vries starts popping open the first button of her jacket. How she manages to make such a small, unrevealing gesture so damn erotic is beyond Yennefer.

Then again, everything she does is erotic. Each little movement enthralls Yennefer further and she would certainly be drooling if her mouth wasn’t so dry. 

She notices little things she’s never noticed before. The way Tissaia de Vries’ calves flex when she bends her legs, the way her feet arch when she kicks off her high heels… Yennefer doesn’t think she has a foot fetish, but that’s just really aesthetic? 

Oh, whatever. She doesn’t even mind having a foot fetish just for her. Really, she would come to an image of her little finger by now. 

Ugh.

Why must she be like this? Why can’t she just gush like normal people? Why is she always so creepy with her crushes?

Her thoughts are forgotten when Tissaia de Vries loses her suit jacket and stands on stage in only a white shirt that’s a bit too long for her small frame, garter belt and stockings. Despite the hairdo, it has this weird rock’n’roll and freshly-fucked vibe to it and, ugh, Yennefer might just have started drooling after all.

The fascinating thing about Tissaia de Vries, in Yennefer’s opinion, is that the more clothes she loses, the more self-confidently she moves. Her posture straightens, her hips sway wider, as though the clothes restricted her and now she’s free. 

And,  _ gods _ , her body. So absolutely perfect. She turns around to rid herself of the shirt, too, opens the buttons efficiently and shimmies out of it slowly, and Yennefer really does not creepily drool over her ass, but come on, she’s human and she has eyes!

Even Sabrina is muttering something like “fuck me” under her breath, which Yennefer understands the sentiment of too well, but don’t that bitch dare to try and snatch Tissaia from her!

In a lacy bralette, underwear and stockings, she turns around, smiling brightly as the audience erupts in applause (none of them could probably explain why they clapped for someone turning around, but hey, who thinks logically when this is what you’re seeing?)

Her panties cover the very top of her thighs with crossed laces and a bow which she’s opening with one hand. 

And Yennefer knows that opening the bow will not lead to the panties falling off because this is burlesque, not a strip show, but she would lie if she didn’t for a second hold her breath in vague hopes.

Is that still the respectful way you’re meant to watch these shows? Probably not. She should really stop being creepy. 

Tissaia de Vries walks up to the front of the stage, pulling the laces out and swinging them in her hand. Gods, she’s so close, so close Yennefer can see the sheen of sweat on her forehead and the stray hairs that glitter in the spotlight. 

Yennefer just freezes. Her hands grab the table in front of her like a lifeline. And then, Tissaia de Vries throws the lace band right into her lap.

* * *

“Okay, you just go there and give her the ribbon.”

“I will  _ not _ do that.”

Yennefer stares down the gateway where Tissaia de Vries sits on a bench in front of the stagedoor, smoking and checking her phone.

“You have to.” Triss comes to her other side and grabs her elbow. “This is a stroke of fate!”

Sabrina grabs the other arm, so that now, they have her in a deadlock. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Possibly the only time ever you’ll have an excuse to talk to her and you want to waste it?”

“Fuck.”

“Come on. You can ask if she has a lighter! That’s completely harmless. And then you tell her you’ve got her ribbon and ask if she wants it back en passant. Et voila: you have a conversation!”

“That’s…”  _ ridiculous _ , Yennefer wants to say, but really? It’s also so enticing. Shit, what has she got to lose, anyway? She won’t meet that woman ever again, so fuck it! “Okay, you know what? I’m doing it.”

Sabrina and Triss squeal in this weird fangirly way as she determinedly makes her way to the stairs that separate her from her idol. 

Shit, she’s nervous.

“Hi. Sorry. You got a lighter?” It isn’t smooth or a particularly good first impression, but it is actual words, so she’ll take it. 

Tissaia de Vries looks up, disoriented and confused, before processing the question and shuffling to retrieve the lighter from her front pocket. She looks at Yennefer again and stops mid-movement. “Well, do you have a cigarette?”

Gods. Her voice. Yennefer just…

_ Oh shit _ . She doesn’t have a cigarette. She doesn’t even smoke!

“Uhm. Nope.”

Tissaia raises one perfect eyebrow at her. “You work here?”

Gods, she’s just so pretty. Yennefer can hardly breathe. 

“Uhm. Also nope.” Shit, this is not going well at all, is it? Is she even allowed to be here?

“Oh. I see.”

She sounds… frustrated? Disappointed? No! That’s not good!

“Uhm, well, actually, I…”, she pulls out the lace, it gets stuck in the belt loop of her skinny jeans, she detangles it, which takes far too long because her hands are shaking, “wanted to ask if you want this back.”

Gods, she’s a mess. She should run away, really.

“Oh, it’s you.” Her tone is clipped. “You guys were very loud.”

Fuck.

“I’m sorry… I should have hit my friends harder, really, and also, I didn’t know you would be there?”

Tissaia frowns at the statement, but doesn’t ask further.  _ Thank the gods _ . Instead, she looks down on the ribbon. “You know you can keep it, right? I wouldn’t hand it out if I didn’t have more than one.”

“Just thinking about the costume budget?”

This, finally, makes Tissaia give a smile and she will forever live off that success. She finally reaches for the ribbon, her hand brushing over Yennefer’s as she takes it from her. “You’ll be the costume department’s hero.”

“Well, tell them I said hi.” Yennefer awkwardly walks a few steps backwards, ready to turn around and run back to her friends, her heart beating a million times faster than is healthy and, really, she might drop dead if she doesn’t create some distance quickly. 

“Will do.” Tissaia takes a drag from her cigarette. “Although I’ll need your name to relay the message.”

“Huh?” Yennefer’s brain needs far too long to process. “Oh, right, Yennefer.”

“Yennefer.” 

Part of her wants to shriek like a fangirl for having Tissaia de Vries say her name. The part that wants to seem cool wins, luckily. 

“Well, Yennefer. Do you want a smoke now or was that just a way to attract my attention?”

“Uhm. The latter.” She feels herself blushing a bit, more so when Tissaia smirks.

“Pity. It would look good on you.”

“I… really? You think so?” Shit, she might start smoking then.

“Fits the aesthetic.” She waves her hand over Yennefer’s figure, the leather jacket, the boots. Yeah, alright. Yennefer sees where she’s coming from. Anyway.

“So… I should probably get going. Am I even allowed to be here?”

“I assume there’s no law against it, but frankly, it’s a bit weird to just walk into someone else’s workplace like that.”

“Yeah… fair enough. Sorry for that. Just wanted to say hi. Kind of.” And give herself something real to drool about. Shit. She’s a creep. “Maybe tell you how breathtaking your performance was should I dare to.”

“Well, do you dare to?”

“No, scared to sound like a creep.”

Tissaia laughs then, and Yennefer isn’t sure she’s ever heard her laugh before in interviews or so, but she wants to record the sound to play when she’s sad. It’s her favourite one from now on. 

“Honestly? I’m not too fond of people just barging into the end of my workday. Even if they’re as beautiful as you are.”

So Yennefer might die on the spot here and now. “Well, I could give you my number so you can tell me when you’re free to receive compliments?”

She has no idea where the courage comes from, her face feels so hot it’s burning, but based on Tissaia’s smile, it’s working. “I’m free now. Unless those stalkers behind the bushes are waiting for you? The cafeteria isn’t good, but their wine is alright, so I wouldn’t be opposed to you buying me one to show your deep admiration.”

Yennefer blinks a few times, just to make sure she isn’t hallucinating. “Well, those stalkers can get home on their own, I think.”


End file.
